A Charmed Hogwarts
by CharmedOne-14
Summary: The Charmed Ones, the three most powerful witches of all time, but they belong to a world outside of Hogwarts. The Wizarding three have their own way of magic, which includes wands and broomsticks. But their way of using magic is about to be swapped with


** A CHARMED HOGWARTS**

CHAPTER ONE

  
**WAIT! DON'T READ YET!! **By the end of this story, if I recieve one hundred reviews, there will be a special, alternate ending. If I don't get 100 then no alternate ending, don't get any reviews then no ending period! : )

Disclamier - All present and future chapters involving characters and landmarks from and created by J.K. Rowling and Constance. M. Burge/ The WB remain their property, I only own various characters and plots not created by J.K Rowling and Constance M. Burge/ The W.B

"Hi Prue," Piper Halliwell whispered to her sister. "I brought you some flowers. I didn't bring daisies, I know you think they're corny." She took in a sharp breath, held her hands to her mouth and tried not to cry. Phoebe wrapped her arms around her sister and leaned her head against hers, stroking her hair. Piper sniffed her tears back. "I'm okay," she assured her sister as she placed the bouquet of red roses on the floor, underneath Prue Halliwell's plaque. She knelt on the floor of the cemetery for a few minutes before rising from her knees and staring into her sister's chocolate brown eyes. Phoebe Halliwell looked away from Piper, pressing her lips together before staring at Prue's grave herself.

"You went away a year ago today," Piper sang to herself, quoting one of her favourite Delta Goodrem songs. Phoebe closed her eyes gently. "Piper, please don't sing that." She knew her voice sounded choked with tears but Piper didn't mention it. They both stood in silence for a while, Piper silently crying to herself. Phoebe couldn't take it anymore, she let one glistening tear creep down her cheek. She brushed it away and turned to face Piper. With silent sisterly communication in their looks, they walked silently back to Piper's SUV. Phoebe hopped into the passenger's seat, staring out the window, her arm propped onto the edge, her temple lightly resting in her hand. She listened to Piper roughly thrust her door open and slam it shut. Piper quickly did up her seatbelt, and fumbled with her keys before putting them in the ignition and pushing hard on the accelerator, startling Phoebe and herself.

"Piper!" Piper slammed the breaks, and leaned back against the driver's seat, breathing heavily. Phoebe gave her a sympathetic look. "It'll get easier, Piper," she gently whispered, her eyes pouring sympathy. Piper shook her head and sniffed. "I don't know, Phoebe," she choked as she started the car again and drove down the streets of San Francisco. "I don't know if I can survive another year without her."

Paige Matthews walked through the Manor's stained glassed doors. "Hello! Anybody home?" "In the kitchen, Paige," Phoebe's voice called out. Paige stopped dead in her tracks: there was something slightly less energetic in Phoebe's voice. Paige walked into the kitchen to face her two sisters. Phoebe was seated on one of the chairs at the small island bench staring at her coffee, slowly sipping. Piper was leaning against the same bench, staring off into space as she waited for the water to boil. Phoebe turned to Paige and gave a quick smile. "Hi." As soon as she spoke she looked back down. Paige glanced at Piper, who gave her a small look and instantly stared at the bench again. Paige knew better than to start making idle conversation – this was always a hard day for her sisters. She sat next to Phoebe, glanced at her, then let her eyes rest on Piper. "Do you guys want to talk about it?" she tentatively asked. Phoebe continued to stare at her coffee cup. Piper didn't look Paige in the eye. "No, Paige." Paige nodded as Piper walked out of the kitchen into the living room. Paige looked at Phoebe, who looked at her. "She's still here, you know," Paige told her. Phoebe nodded, appreciative of her sister's comfort. But their tender moment was interrupted by a loud cry from the living room.

"Phoebe! Paige! Demon!" The two women jumped off their seats and ran to join Piper. The demon before them grinned with its hundreds of shark-like white teeth, crawling with insects of all sorts, maggots in its armpits, worms through its hair. Paige swallowed quickly, she was glad she had passed on that lunch date. Its purplish, pink skin was incredible wrinkled as different creepy crawlies - spiders, baby snakes, and worms – crawled in and out of its pores.

"I come for the powers of the Charmed Ones," it demanded, licking its lips. Paige's eyes widened, just as the demon literally froze in its tracks. Piper took her hands down as the now immobile demon stood in their living room Phoebe turned to the kitchen, raising her hand. "I'll get the vanquishing potion," she called as she left the room. She searched the cupboards. "Nutmeg ... Lazarus potion, Grimlock ... ah ha! Massacard!" She rushed back into the living room, fishing out a small piece of paper from her pocket. But before she could open the paper, the Massacard unfroze. Phoebe levitated into the air and kicked the Massacard in the nose. The demon's head flung back as a definite crack came from its neck. Infuriated, it grabbed Phoebe's ankle and threw her against the wall. Phoebe smashed against a painting of fruit as the vanquishing potion flung from her hands and the bottle shattered. The vanquishing liquid seeped out of the bottle. Phoebe rose to her feet, but before she could scream Paige put her outstretched arm in the direction of the potion. "Potion!" she commanded, as the liquid became an orb of blue and white sparkles, and reappeared in Paige's hand. Before it had time to recreate itself, she telekinetically pushed the orbs to the demon where it landed between its eyes. The demon's howl rang through the entire house, as Phoebe ran to her sisters and handed them the spell. "In this night and on this hour, the sisters call on all their powers, telekinesis, molecular combust, premonition, banish this demon, quick and efficient!" they cried in unison. The demon howled once more. Piper glanced at Paige and saw her wince slightly as the flames devoured the demon, leaving only dusty remains on the floor. 'Prue wouldn't be wincing,' she thought to herself, then slapped her hand to her forehead, ashamed with herself. She didn't mean to think of Paige as a weak warrior, but it just wasn't the same without Prue, even after two years. Paige rested her hands on her hips and flicked her red hair. "Well, I think it's safe to say we just kicked some serious ass!" Phoebe and Piper silently nodded. "I'll be in my room if anyone needs me," Piper announced as she turned around and ran upstairs. Paige glanced at Phoebe, who turned away, saying, "I'm just ... gonna go for a walk." Paige nodded as Piper's bedroom door slammed shut. Seconds later, so did the front door. Paige jumped slightly at both sounds. She gave a small sigh, a combination of relief and disappointment, and turned back to the kitchen. They just needed some time out, she knew. Paige began to make her own coffee. She leaned against the sink and stared out the window. "Magic. Can't live with it, can't live without it."

"Harry, hi! Have you seen Dean?" Ginny Weasley made him move over a seat so she could sit next to him. She searched the Great Hall's welcoming feast tables for her current boyfriend. Harry shook his head, as he continued to read the Daily Prophet. Ginny flicked her red hair and leaned over to see what he was reading. "I thought all the shit they wrote about you last year would have turned you off for good." Harry nodded solemnly before answering. "I guess I just ... I just want to see if they're grovelling at Dumbledore's feet yet." He cracked a slight smile. Ginny was over the moon at this response. It was good to see him smile. Lately Hermione couldn't shut up about how Harry seemed so depressed. No one could blame him, but it was still so awful and so indescribably painful to watch someone go through that and not really being able to do anything. Ginny, determined to make a breakthrough, laughed with him, stopping when a small tap on her shoulder made her turn around. Dean smiled at her and she smiled seductively back. She'd written him some pretty _intense_ letters over the summer. Dean leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "Can I see you for a moment?" Ginny grinned. "Is there a problem?" she asked innocently. He grinned back. "Not at all." She rose from her seat as Dean grabbed her hand and they ran off laughing. Harry rolled his eyes. He knew Ginny was going to break up with him sooner or later. Ron had informed him Ginny was a bit of a heartbreaker. Well, it wasn't like she had a shortage of offers. He wondered where Hermione and Ron were ... "Hi Harry!" Harry smiled slightly and moved down another seat so his two best friends could join him. Hermione sat on his left and Ron on his right. Hermione brushed a strand of bushy brown hair from her face. There was something different about her, though – but Harry just couldn't place it. Ron seemed to be even taller than last year but otherwise hadn't changed at all. He smiled at Harry and began to dig into the feast. Hermione turned to Harry and smiled as well, then Harry realised what was different: she was wearing lip gloss! He couldn't believe it. Hermione Granger, wearing make up? Was he dreaming? It wasn't a bad thing, but he just wasn't expecting it! Before he could comment, a brown owl flew over their heads and a letter dropped into Hermione's lap. She opened the roll of parchment and silently read. Her eyes grew wider and wider at every word. She quickly did it up, blushing furiously. "Who's the letter from, Hermione?" Ron inquired. "No one," she replied briskly. "It's from Krum." The trio glanced up as Ginny sat across from Harry with a playful smile on her lips. Maybe Harry was imagining it, but was her skirt around the wrong way? Harry glanced at Hermione with a raised eyebrow, and Ron – well, Ron was struck dumb. Hermione glared at Ginny. "Thanks, Ginny," she said sarcastically. Ginny smirked. "So, what did Romeo have to say today?"

"Romeo!" Ron spluttered. Hermione went, if possible, even redder. Ginny couldn't help herself. She crossed her legs and looked at Hermione innocently. "Is there something you'd like to share with the rest of us?" "No!" Hermione retorted indignantly. She glanced at Harry, who gave her a probing look. She raised her hands. "There's nothing to tell ..." - Harry raised his eyebrows - "honest!" she added. Harry glanced at Ginny, who rolled her eyes. Ron looked at Hermione and then stared into space again. He then got up and started to walk down the hall. For a moment, it looked like he was going to leave, but as soon as he brushed past Hermione, he snatched the roll of parchment from the table. Hermione made a quick but pointless attempt to retrieve her letter. Ron put his hand to his chin and began to stroke an imaginary beard. "Well, Hermione. It seems you've been working your 'womanly wiles'." He let out a small grin. "I know, I am very proud of her," Ginny teased. "Ginny, shut up, and Ron, that is not funny in the least. Now give it back!" Ron looked like he was about to do as she asked, but Harry knew better. Ron rolled up the parchment and chucked it to Harry who caught it, despite Hermione's outstretched arms. Harry began to read it aloud:

_Hermione,  
I miss you. I want to see you again. You're haunting me. You keep me alive.  
Viktor._

Now Harry understood, that was just down right embarrassing! Then he realised – "Again? What does he mean, again?" "Yeah, I know what she did last summer," Ginny announced. Harry gave her a questioning look. Hermione drew out her wand. "_Accio_ parchment!" The letter shot from Harry's hand into Hermione's.  
"I'm going to the library to study!" she declared stiffly. Ron almost choked on his toast. "But classes haven't even started!" Hermione gave Ron a definite glare. "We're in sixth year, Ron, we have to learn to work out our priorities – something _you_ could look into." She stalked off, but before she could reach the door, Professor Albus Dumbledore stood, and the entire room fell silent. "Before we begin, I would like to make an announcement. We have a guest this year. He will be working as a professor-in-training for Defence Against the Dark Arts. Please welcome Mr. Viktor Krum!" The entire school gasped, then broke into applause – all except one. Hermione screwed up her face in sincere disappointment before turning on her heels and walking out the door.

"Oh, Merlin ... Magic," she sighed. "Can't live with it, can't live without it."

"What's the plan this time?" he casually inquired, leaning back into an armchair that was way past its prime.

"Must I always think of everything?" she demanded hotly – but smiled. She _was_, after all, the genius of the two. Where would they be without her? She strode over to a filing cabinet, and opened it with a magical touch that only she could use. She drew out two files, and handed both to her associate. He opened them coolly and sifted through both of them, then glanced up. "What's your point?" She rolled her eyes, annoyed. Was he really so thick? "The six most powerful witches and wizards of all time, you idiot!"

"Excuse me?"

"The Charmed Ones! The Wizading Three? You've never heard of them?" He shook his head. As soon as he did his head swung to the side in pain. He refused to comfort the red burning handprint caused by his partner's hand. "You son of a bitch! What kind of worker of dark magic are you? Never heard of the Charmed Ones? Or the Wizading Three? You are an absolute disgrace!" He rose and looked her square in the eye, then slapped her – maybe even harder then she'd slapped him. Her head turned back to face him, with a definite crack from her neck. She slapped him. He did the same to her. They both continued in this contest until both their cheeks were stained with blood. She smiled, raised her hand to his cheek and ran a finger down his cut. She licked the blood off her finger.  
"That was fun." He nodded. She turned away from him and reached for a pinch of Floo powder, throwing it into the fireplace before she looked at him directly. Before he could whisper a syllable, she raised her hand outstretched; he was forced to his knees, choking as her hand squeezed tighter in the air. "Figure it out," she snapped as she lowered her hand. She stepped into the fireplace and was devoured in the emerald flames.


End file.
